


Dating you is..

by HoldOnImConfused



Series: Being and becoming [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: First Dates, M/M, Motorcycles, Slice of Life, Slow Dancing, Surprises, Warnings May Change, but it's pretty innocent so far, fishing in a way, happy shit got continued, prolly will be until I change my mind, snugfit jeans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldOnImConfused/pseuds/HoldOnImConfused
Summary: As the week moves on, the promise of a second date, or a first real date, closes in.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Series: Being and becoming [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588792
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Dating you is..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much a continuation of yeah, the first work but the first fake date is still pretty stand-alone focused and works perfectly as an ending where it did end, this is merely how it possibly could have continued.

Rick had to dig deep and struggle with his brain to remember when he had been this nervous the last time, it had been an uphill battle but he’d ultimately closed the case with his grand gesture one evening two weeks before prom where he’d snuck into the backyard of Lori’s house, equipped with a guitar he hadn’t mastered and he’d sung to her about everything he thought was beautiful with her. It hadn’t been a great song, his voice had cracked on multiple occasions and he’d fumbled with the strings, but the lyrics had been true words from his heart, genuine in the message and thankfully she’d found him dorky enough for it and accepted his invitation.

This though, this was a tad bit beyond that. His clothes were scattered all over his bed because he could deem nothing worthy enough to fit this Friday evening he’d yearned for since Daryl had kissed him good night right outside his door on his welcome home mat. He’d redressed so many times it had started to make his head spin and when he looked he only found his underwear drawer to be the only fortunate holder to not have been emptied in the frenzied panic to find the most appropriate clothes. Should he wear something casual? Should he dress up? Would Daryl kiss him at the door when he arrived? He didn’t even know if they were going for another dinner, sure he’d suggested for them to rewind and go the date again but that didn’t have to imply it would be the exact same date. Shit it could never be the exact same date because this time it wasn’t fake.

In the end he’d admitted defeat and dialed his best friend, hearing the phone click as Shane picked up his call, groaning and cursing him for his bad timing, most likely from the sounds in the background he was at a bar and had just tried to pick someone up, only to have his brave efforts of stupid pick up lines which, for some amazing reason worked on chicks, be interrupted by his phone ringing, a nice and clean cockblock right there. Well, Shane could stick it somewhere if he was stupid enough to leave his phone on sound, picking up the call too, Rick mused.

“Shane quick, help me. What do you pick when you want to look good, proper, but not overdressing like a pretentious fuck and still lay over the line of casual disinterest?” He asked and started counting the seconds it took for Shane to process what he’d said, expecting a best of friend type of reply to back him up in Rick’s time of need. He didn’t get that though, not at first and he had to move the phone from his ears as Shane burst out laughing at Rick’s expense.

“Shane I’m serious!” Rick exclaimed with his phone still at a safe distance from the laugh that kept going for a short moment longer than thoroughly necessary, before he started to audibly gather his breathing.

“Alright alright, calm down Rick, what the fuck? You know this, why are you calling me?” He asked like Rick was being stupid for not knowing what to choose, like he was supposed to know, like he was expected to be a fucking expert and when Rick thought about it, it wasn’t actually a matter as close to the end of the world like Rick had worked himself up to believe.

“Humor me.” He bit out, calming his brain down to go through the most logical options but still, even if he did decide on something it would make him feel better if Shane backed him up on it.

“Alright man, hold on baby.” He heard Shane voice, first to the phone then secondly to the chick he’d definitely been flirting with before Rick could hear him remove himself from the worst of the noise, now that, unlike his booming laughter, did help calm Rick down, it meant Shane was putting off hitting on chicks to help him.

“You know how even as a perfectly straight guy that likes C’s preferably, but still have to comment on your snug ass whenever you wear those dark almost black jeans because they fondle your ass, cupping it like it was the Olympic fucking flame being carried? I’d start with that, no one can say no to that ass.” Shane said, chuckling and probably replaying the image of Rick’s ass while he most likely knew Rick was flushing like red like a freshly painted fire truck. Right, shit, where had he put those? Rick started ruffling through the pile on the bed while Shane patiently let him take his time, Rick didn’t know where they were.

“Then?” He asked as he moved along to his second bedroom, more used for storage as he continued looking for the first bit to his clothing puzzle.

“Then it’s simple, just got with a button down, you usually wear that and its proper, elegant but not over the top and you can pick whatever color you want since the jeans are dark, but I’d go for something with a leveled amount of contrast but dark in the color because Rick my man, with those jeans and face you’re contrast enough to shake’n’bake whatever button down you choose.” Shit, how the fuck could a man be so embarrassing and still land girls, Rick didn’t know and he was friends with the guy since they’d been in kindergarten.

“Right, right okay I got this, shit I still can’t find the pants.” He swore, instantly telling Shane to shut up as he started laughing again, yet his best friend never tried to round the call up to get back to his business, set on sticking with Rick until he was ready to hang up.

“Didn’t you recently spring clean?” He heard Shane ask and Rick frowned, working through stuffed boxes of clothing so unorganized he didn’t even know if the clothes were winter, give away or stuff he may use later and so really there was no point in them being in boxes if they were just going to be pure illusion of Rick being tidy.

“What’s your point?” Rick asked, shoving his current box to the side to attack another with growing desperation, shit he really wanted to impress didn’t he?

“I mean, is it possible you neglected to fold the last batch because you washed EVERYTHING in your drawers and decided to do it later?” Rick heard the ding ding ding chide in his brain, dropping the contents in his hand straight back into the box and bolted for the bathroom.

“Oh god you’re a genius.” Rick delighted as he dove into the clean basket that he, much to Shane’s guess, hadn’t gotten around to fold yet. Adding to the mess of his bed, his bathroom soon met the same unfortunate fate but he did find the jeans he was looking for.

“Hey man, I’ll hold you to that.” He said, instantly gratified and cocky, letting the compliment inject itself like a drug straight into his ego, Rick could deal with that later, bat him down a notch or two if he needed to, for now he loved his best friend and he’d give him the moment to shine for it.

“Alright, I found them, think I got it under control, thanks Shane.” He said, grabbing the pair and moving back to the bedroom for the next hunt to be, a button down.

“Don’t mention it, go rattle ‘em bones Ricky boy!” Shane sing-songed all proud and being unbelievable.

“Byyye Shane.” He drawled out his words, pretending to accuse Shane of being an ass before he clicked the call off with a swift tap of his finger.

* * *

For all his panic before, even if he’d managed to settle down once he’d hogged those snug fitting jeans, wrapping themselves lovingly around his hips, hanging somewhat low but not indecent after taking the risk of a second shower while adding his favorite cologne to his neck, he quickly found himself dumbfounded. No sir, Rick Grimes had in no way whatsoever, managing to conquer calmness and all, been prepared at all when the doorbell finally rang and he practically threw himself on the door. Well almost, he stopped short just before because he did not want to be caught in a questioning look where he just couldn’t explain he was stupid enough to run into his door, now faced with what struck any lingering intelligence he had left, all devoured by awe as he laid eyes on his date for the evening.

“I was hopin’ t’invitation still stands?” He heard the southern drawl, he relished in it because he’d only heard it through memory for the past week and for a guy who had never actually checked another guy out before, never found one particularly attractive he sure could question himself now while simultaneously add a notch of second guessing that he’d picked the wrong button down shirt in its discreet browny touch of autumn orange to fit with his jeans.

Daryl was sporting a similar fashion, a pair of worn jeans finished with a pair of biker boots, a simple dark button down in a fabric thicker, Rick was guessing it was more flannel, all buttoned neatly to his torso beneath a leather jacket which was topped off with a vest. His hair looked clean compared to the messy state of it in the restaurant and although Rick could catch traces of his job on his hands, he wasn’t nearly as smudged up and grimy as he had been the week before. Rick remembered the scent vividly, the breath he’d taken in the car before Daryl had joined him in it, he could still catch that smell, but only a hint of it considering their distance, this time though it was less oil and more of Daryl’s choice of soap.

“It does.” Rick smiled, catching how those opposite blue’s swayed over his frame from top to bottom, trying not to go too far down of course and he swore he could see a tint of a blush when the man tried to dismiss his own not-so-obvious check out by nudging his head down the path behind him. _Like dull ones, some contrast, like a forest_ Rick remembered and let his eyes drop down to his button down Daryl had strayed on, which very much came close to what he’d said at the restaurant and only feeling a little embarrassed that his mind had probably royally screwed him over by having him pick that shirt without telling him exactly what it had been thinking. Looked like he’d dressed to impress alright.

Daryl walked him to the curb and stopped at his bike, leaning down pop the strap on one the two saddle bags, Rick noted a second helmet hanging on the opposite side of the bag Daryl was opening and he felt himself swallow down his excitement before it would get a chance to make himself combust right there on the sidewalk. He’d told Daryl he hadn’t ridden one for so long, that he used to love it, now aside from checking each other out not so discreetly, this was the first thing happening on their official date.

“Here, put this on.” Daryl said after he’d pulled a second leather jacket from the saddle bag, neatly folded to fit the confined and limited holder and held it out for Rick to take. It only made Rick smile all the more, sparking an idea for him and he held one arm out, presenting it like an offering.

“Well, since you didn’t get to do it last time.” He said, feeling the smooth slide of the leather as Daryl threaded the jacket onto him, scratching off one point from the fake date they hadn’t managed to do, just for the sake of it. Rick helped out by adjusting his shoulders, a quick bend of his elbow, as Daryl moved around him for the second sleeve, the leather applying itself soothingly with nostalgia over his limbs and damn it was warm and it wasn’t because of the summer or the jacket.

“God it’s been a long time.” He exhaled at the smell surrounding him as he pulled the zipper up, because it really had. Not only was he going to be given a ride on Daryl’s fine piece of machinery, all sleek black and freshly cleaned chrome, in such a prime condition compared to his truck, but he was also cared for with the leather jacket to help protect his skin should anything happen. For good measure he let a hand slide over one of the sleeves, feeling the leather trickle beneath his fingertips, a jacket which had been along for quite some time by the feel of it and yet, it was agile and smooth so despite it being used as a secondary jacket, it was still maintained like it was just as important even if it spent most of the time hanging in a wardrobe.

Daryl, when Rick pulled himself from the comfort of the jacket hugging him, had a smirk on his face like he knew something that Rick didn’t, letting it drag out and probably finding a great amount of humor in how Rick’s curious gaze tried to figure out what it was.

“Daryl Dixon.” He teased to fit the mood, for their supposed _“rewind”_ to be in full play, starting from scratch with well, obviously some cheats along the way _._

“Rick Grime’s, nice to meet you.” Rick played along as Daryl handed him the second helmet before reaching for his own.

“I actually didn’t take you for a helmet guy.” He admitted while they were strapping them on, the secrecy smirk still going strong on Daryl’s lips while he shrugged lightly from Rick’s comment, making his frame shift in a mesmerizing way when the jacket moved with it despite how simplified and natural the shift was.

“Ain’t ‘n official record so, I ain’t really, but ye kno’, wouldn’t wanna get ‘n trouble with t’law.” He said, adding the last click to the strap and let his fingers make a light tug on it to make sure the helmet was set as it should be, brown bangs poking out where it could, looked quite adorable if Rick had a say in it. Rick followed suit, chuckling at his comment as they prepared for their trip, Daryl offering Rick a pair of sunglasses while he put on his own, still having that stupid smirk that was driving Rick mad. He didn’t have to question why it was there, he’d been close to but just before he was about to comment on it, Daryl held the keys up, just like he had offered the jacket , the helmet and the sunglasses, Rick was stunned at the keys dangling for him to take.

“Thought ye kno’, maybe ye’d like t’ give me a ride?” Daryl said, Rick had thought for more than just a few seconds that surely it hadn’t been real before Daryl had spoken and he was still just staring at the keys, then Daryl, then back to the keys until Daryl cut short a hearty laugh at the expense of Rick’s reaction.

“Shit are you sure? I haven’t driven one in a long time, you know that.” Rick asked and explained because surely, he must have missed some insanity sign when he’d gotten smitten by Daryl and his fake date. The man simply nodded and gently reached for Rick’s hand when his eyes went to the keys, then back to Daryl again, what was he, an echo? He turned the hand facing Rick’s palm up as he placed them on his skin before wrapped Rick’s hand with his own and nodded.

“I’ve no doubts.” Daryl said as he let go of Rick’s hand. Well the smirk had surely earned its value and Rick found that he was pretty okay with this kind of start.

* * *

The feel of the wind and competing with the asphalt beneath the wheels, racing for every gentle curve to meet its match, Rick had not forgotten this feeling but he had grown distant of it. Slowly it was all coming back to him, how free you felt with the world soaring around you so differently from the inside of a car and how the raw power of the engine rumbled through your entire body.

Behind him he had the well trained and adjusted body to match his driving style, tucked close to Rick’s back but minding the reach he needed to make his drive comfortable. They drove out of town, taking the more scenic routes which still could provide the vehicle with well preserved roadwork beneath the wheels, easing through the outskirts of Atlanta, cleansing Rick in every fiber.

He did admit to Daryl, as they had stopped to take a break after picking up a drink each at a gas station, that he had been nervous about driving the bike but that it had quickly come back to him with a familiar ease. Daryl was relaxing, the small of his back supported by the railing behind him, a smoke between his fingers, his can of soda in the other. Rick was just a stride away, but facing the opposite direction to gaze upon the landscape with his elbows propped on the same piece of metal, holding his torso up and with his own drink and lightly stirring in its contents by Rick’s circular movements of the can. He’d shyly turned his face, moving his eyes form the view in front of him to Daryl when he’d easily voiced that he had been silly to even worry about it even if it had been just for a moment, that a rider would always be a rider no matter how much time went between the last thunder of the engine to carry your way to the next.

They had swapped after that and Rick let Daryl adjust to the feel of him sitting behind when Rick had climbed the bike, still minding the weariness he’d experienced from a mere sudden shoulder bump. But the man steeled through it and Rick thought for a second that maybe, he, just as Rick, had chanced the challenge to his own comfort zone by choosing the bike as their means of transportation all the while, that it would accommodate to Rick’s forlorn interest in motorcycles, reviving it for the trill that it was.

Daryl had opted to play with the muscle of the engine more than Rick had, not being shy of it, without exceeding the speed limit like he was some perfected and law-abiding citizen which Rick mused at with doubts that the man actually kept the speed limits during his usual rides. Yet it was nice, being the one sitting on the back allowed Rick to close his eyes and just feel, breathe and exist, thoughts washing away as Daryl drove them closer to town, but remained within the outskirts where the houses lay scattered to keep some personal distances from one neighbor to the other. It was fitting, when he’d weaved through the long roads with the small off going dirt roads leading into the woods and ultimately slowed down to bring the bike into one of them.

The house that appeared at the end of the road they’d taken wasn’t too big but enough to fit two grown men, as Daryl had explained his brother kept borrowing his underwear and how he’d more times than not, tried to pull Daryl out to a bar after coming home from work, Rick could only assume they lived together.

The yard was big though compared to the house and only half maintained as it circled far around the building with a couple of trees spread around it. Rick noted a smaller building to the right of the house, closer to the edge of the yard, it was more like an old fashioned hut but then again this was an old area and it was more likely to urge renovation and force a “clean” modern style within the city for most people, should they have moved to it.

“What’s that building over there?” He asked curiously as Daryl, true to their little previous charade that was supposed to be over except for one single part of it, had waited for Rick to pull the zipper down to ease the borrowed jacket off.

“’s a smokin’ hut.” He said when he’d followed Rick’s eyes over to the little hut, plucking the keys from the ignition after he’d laid the leather jacket over the seat. Rick allowed himself a soothing stretch, free from the leather confinements, he loved a good leather jacket but in Georgia summer and you weren’t riding the wind? It did get hot and with the piece of protection removed from his body the air and the breeze sought itself through the neat fibers of his button down, cooling his chest, making him groan when his hands had reached as high as they could go.

“So, you smoke your own meat too? Or is it just something that was here when you moved in?” He asked while he lowered his arms, muscles delightedly sighing from the stretch.

“Was’re from t’start, hadn’t been used fer ages, so’s we fixed ‘t, ‘s a yes then, we smoke.” He explained, looking like he was trying to not blush, like it was no big deal regardless of Rick being impressed and with full honesty expressing it with his question.

“Comon’, lemme give ye t’tour.” The tour included a two step stair, showing clear signs of reconstruction as, at one point of the other, Rick guessed the stones had cracked. The hallway he was lead into after getting through the door was small, but the rooms had a spacey feel to them, not too many things loitering around and Rick figured it had something to do with Daryl telling him he didn’t like cramped places, possibly also the kind of person who didn’t feel the need to have things that weren’t a necessity. Rick liked that thought, it felt like a good match to the version of Daryl he was getting to know.

He was shown the bathroom covering the basics of a tub and shower combination, the kitchen had an advanced sized, long and wide piece of countertop, nothing like Rick had ever seen and Daryl had pointed out that when they got big game, they needed the space to divide the rough cuts that he usually did outside of the house, which Rick thought made sense and he could make out some kind of large porch on the back side of the house through the windows and the glass door leading out to it.

Daryl didn’t exactly show him the bedrooms, the doors were standing ajar so he could catch a sight or two as they passed and Daryl directed his attention to each of them, noting which was his and which one was Merle’s.

“You know with the image I got of your brother I figured it would be messy.” He said as they came into the similarly fashioned living room, surprised at the fact that Merle’s room was pretty neat and tidy, so was Daryl’s. Now Daryl had an excuse for cleaning up if he was going to bring a date home, but Merle didn’t so maybe the brothers were better than most at keeping order in their home. His eyes caught the frame standing in the bookshelf and he absently stepped closer to find the two brothers standing next to each other in the picture, they looked nothing alike, yet they were grinning, Daryl had his arm up the air with a beer in it and Merle was doing the finger guns toward the camera. Looked fucking ridiculous, but happy.

“Yea, he used t’be, can trash t’kitchen ‘n jus’ one night, cans ‘n boxes, slices ‘f pizza everywhere, but he always cleans up after, he didn’t use t’.” Daryl explained, concluding the tour as completed as Daryl picked up yet another piece of clothing from the couch.

“Here, put this on.” He said and Rick took it, holding back on his bubbling urge to joke about Daryl having some secret fetish pulling Rick through his cosplay whims. The piece he had received was a classic green colored fishing vest with the multiple pockets and all, he had said he liked fishing when he was younger which was most likely the current reason for the vest.

“Oh, we’re going fishing next?” He asked eagerly, pulling the vest on, it was a little too big for him but it didn’t matter. Daryl had put on one too before he motioned for Rick to follow him.

“Mhm, sort ‘f?” Daryl replied and Rick wasn’t exactly sure what sort of fishing that meant but hell, he’d have to find out wouldn’t he? So he followed Daryl over to the kitchen and they went outside to the back porch he’d seen through the window. It was decorated by a couple of small light bulbs around the wooden railing, snaking their way over around and between poles and flat boards. The area of the porch was spacious, toward the wall of the house Rick could see two set ups of pillows and blankets placed as seating, both with a basket with contents looking like a notepad and a pen, there was also two old fashioned CD players with ear buds. Against the wall between the two windows between the seatings hung a sheet from a string hooked to the wall and next to it, one on each side was two smaller looking fishing rods but instead of a hook they had a clip at the end of the lines.

“Have a seat.” Daryl said and Rick couldn’t piece together this puzzle that involved sitting in a cozy pile of blankets and fishing at the same time. He tried to study Daryl’s face, sitting down as instructed, but found himself unable to get any proper clues, just like with the bike, Daryl just looked somewhat shy and nervous, which Rick realized he pretty much had all evening whenever he wasn’t focused on things other than Rick. It was probably the clearest difference between their fake date and their real one, it wasn’t just pretend anymore and Rick was the cause for the way he worried his lip or ducked his head away like it was too much for him to handle but still chasing more. Rick loved every bit of it.

Before Daryl himself sat down, he pulled out a wooden holder and placed it so their seats would be in between the holder and the wall before he reached for the line, pulling the hanging sheet along with it to attach it. It created a wall of wool between their castles of pillows and blankets, Rick was only growing more curious than ever because of it, then Daryl quickly made a detour into the kitchen and Rick could hear him bustling about for a short moment, the oven clicking opening and clicking shut, same for the fridge before he came back outside with two flat wooden plates to place one on Rick’s side.

“Alright, almost set, put t’ ear buds in ‘n press play.” He said and brought the second tray with him to the shielded side of the sheet. Rick complied and grabbed the CD player, one after the other, he put the buds into his ears and pressed play. From the CD, the low rippling sound of a stream started flowing into his ears. There were some birds chirping every now and then, the old notions of the forest creaking and the wind carrying its song through the foliage, like he was actually out there sitting by a stream.

Rick’s attention was pulled when something slid down on his side, dangling in the air. He watched the little basket, attached to the clip at the end of the line and chuckled, leaning forth to open the clip and take the basked in his hands. The chuckle turned into a heartwarming smile as his chest started to bubble, it had a piece of paper in it and three offerings of bite sized food, one piece of meat wrapped into paper and two dried fruits Rick guessed them to be a slice of both pear and peach. Rick looked to his own tray and saw a similar setup of wrapped pieces and slices of both dried and freshly cut fruit, a bottle of beer and a glass of water. Intrigued by whatever was going on he picked up the piece of paper from the basked and unfolded it.

_“We’re going fishing, but not the regular kind. We will ask three question on this side which says Questions at the top, if we feel like it, we will add a little reply on our own questions at the same time and then give our replies on the back side which says Answers. I’ve sent along some food to munch on while you’re waiting for a bite._

_Q;_

  1. _I never asked how old you were, so if I may that’s my first question.  
I’m 36 if you’re wondering._
  2. _Are you a coffee or a tea person?  
Coffee > Tea but some Earl Gray ain’t half bad._
  3. _Anything you don’t eat? Good to know so I don’t send over anything you don’t like.  
Don’t like celery._



Rick laughed in sync with a bird chirping in his ear, seriously, it wasn’t the kind of fishing he was expecting, shit he hadn’t expected anything like this at all and before he knew it he’d snatched a piece from the pad holding the papers and started writing his reply on the answer side.

_A;_

  1. _I’m 34_
  2. _Definitely coffee person._
  3. _I pretty much eat anything so we’re safe._



He scribbled before turning the paper to the questions side. He found himself enjoying going through his thoughts, asking himself what he did want to know and finding the task of picking questions quite liberating. This way was designed like a game and he had free reign when it came to questions, free from bonds of conversations which, most of the time eased the way by one sentence leading on to another, this didn’t have that. Maybe the sheet was a way to wear their defenses down, an opportunity to look for the balance of privacy behind the safety of the wall and maybe stretch their legs regarding it, unlike the way pressure would build when the eyes were straight on you. Rick liked to think this game was designed not only as a tweak to the get to know you part, but also a way for Daryl to tussle with his own comfort zone, he was starting to suspect the choice of the bike really had been intentional for that. His pen inked across the paper for the final question as he nodded to himself, maybe it was an offering for Rick to see what was beneath the armor should he choose to, like a prologue for a story to come and some place to start peeling the layers away. He would test his theory if he felt it suiting, to see if the water indeed was warm when he dipped his toe in.

_Q;_

  1. _Sugar or salty snacks?  
I think I lean toward salty more._
  2. _Have you crashed any other dates?  
I’ve never tried it._
  3. _Morning or night person?  
Morning person, used to drive my parents mad, even as a teen._



Rick folded the piece of paper and slid it into the basket before he glanced over at the tray and all the options he had for now. For every bite they would slim down and he’d be left with only three for the final round, it made him curious to try and figure out what Daryl’s favorites where, if he had any and to save those for last. As for the meat he made quick smell tests for the wrapped little packages, both light and dark in thickness of smell, smoky, salty and feathery, each little package seeming to have had its meat prepared with different methods.

Satisfied with his first round of bite sizes, one wrapped pack, a slice of pineapple and a fresh cut of water melon, placed into the little basket with the Q/A paper tucked neatly on the side he tugged on the fishing line and watched it climb up into the air before disappearing over the edge of the sheet.

The dried fruit melted in his mouth in its rich and still juicy flavor, dried to just the brink to maintain the essence of taste which almost had him forget that it was his turn to throw the line over. Rick reached for the light bamboo rod, letting the lingering taste of fruit circle through his mouth as he lifted it to let the clip climb over the edge of the sheet and once it was over he lowered the rod, letting it rest against it. He continued with a sip of the beer and a slice of pear after that, letting the soft sound of nature isolate him as he let a quiet laugh slip from his lips that yea, maybe hearing the scribbling would have ruined the mood but he wasn’t too much against hearing any huffs of amusement when the other was reading the questions or picking his own, that maybe wouldn’t have been so bad.

When he felt his line tug he didn’t waste a second to lift the rod and guide the little basket over the sheet and into his eager claim. He noted another wrap, a little cup of raspberries and a two slices of mandarin and of course, the little note folded on the side.

_A;_

  1. _Salty_
  2. _Dude, really? That’s a no._
  3. _Morning_



Rick snorted, feeling pleased with himself for the teasing tone of his second question and decided yea, if this was going to happen, which he’d know more about later, he was definitely going to keep teasing Daryl about it. After all, for Rick it was starting to feel like the best decision Daryl had ever made, _so far_. He added salty to his top three finish bite sizes, being able to rule out most of the sweeter options on his plate and tried to not flush and allow his filthy brain make it anything other than liking _just_ salty foods. He wasn’t thinking about that, nope. He smiled about Daryl being a morning person, did not at all imagine sweet mornings with freshly brewed coffee in place of _salty_ images, not consciously at least. Rick turned the paper.

_Q;_

  1. _Got any pets?  
Got a cat I think, he likes to hang around when it’s raining or cold._
  2. _Do you play any instruments?  
I can whistle?_
  3. _Favorite season?  
Fall for me_



After the first two notes the rest of them seemed to come as fast as they went, scribbling and munching, sipping on his beer or enjoying the fresh cold water, taking his time in choosing what bites to send over and what to ask while having to think through his answers too. But the basket kept swapping sides of the sheet.

Daryl had a couple of tattoos, Rick wrote he had none, his worst hung over had been thanks to vodka and a Russian friend, or not friend, to his brother to which Rick had laughed, he’d have to ask about that later. As for him he had noted that it had included _Shane, an all nighter and clubbing._ Daryl knew sign language while Rick had learned Spanish in high school, had gotten a pretty decent grade too, and while Rick thought he and his sister were kind of similar Daryl had written that he wasn’t sure on how to answer that question. For one of the notes Rick had to ask if Daryl thought he was spontaneous or a planner, not being able to decide if, an idea like this date, was a spontaneous whim or something he’d taken his time to think and plan through. Rick didn’t give his own answer when he wrote that question but with the next paper he read; _thought I was spontaneous, but I started planning after you offered me this date._ Rick rightfully allowed that blush to stay on his cheeks.

Rick had gotten some payback for his date crashing question when Daryl had asked how his comfort zone was doing, he’d proudly but happily written that _it’s doing fine thank you very much._ He’d asked how Rick met Shane, then if he’d trained in any sports and traditions when he was growing up, all to which he never put in any own thoughts to those three questions and Rick figured either he didn’t want to share or he didn’t really have anything to say. He’d written that him and Shane had been put in the same kindergarten, that he’d played baseball through high school and about their yearly vacation along with the Walsh’s.

The tray was starting to empty out as the he let the basket disappear behind the sheet for the next round, he’d been close to testing his theory, held the tip of the pen to the paper and then decided he wouldn’t. It had been offered, he could have taken that offer, but just getting it was enough wasn’t it?

He’d been surprised, reading that Daryl had been a lot younger than him when he’d learned to shoot but then he’d let that though slip as he laughed when he’d read that Daryl would kill him if he ever told Merle he’d been his hero as a kid, then his chest had flopped because it had insinuated that he was possibly going to meet him sometime and he tried to refocus on Daryl saying his last trip being up to the Chattahoochee National Forest for hiking and think about his own answers to those questions, besides, he had time with that PS. at the end.

_A;_

  1. _I learned to shoot at the academy. Dad took me out a few times after I turned 16 though._
  2. _Went to Washington for a joint training meet, does that count?_
  3. _Typical dad was my hero kid._



_Q;_

  1. _Would you ever lie to keep your best friend out of prison?  
I work for the law, I guess that pretty much sums it up._
  2. _What do you usually hunt?  
I got nothing on that, does fish?_
  3. _What’s a strange fact about you?  
I can never bother to fold my socks, so I just take the first I can get from the drawer._



Daryl had disappeared after moving the basket from the clip, to take that piss and Rick enjoyed the food and until he came back. When the basket came sinking on his side of the sheet again, Rick reached for it to clip it off. He’d already prepared his note, well adjusted to their little game. He started with the wrapped package of smoked fish, all so tender in his still trapped solidarity with nature, then a deep purple half of plum which enriched the last bit of beer he had left, lastly a slice of nectarine finishing off the lingering plum by smoothening it sweetly. Then he opened the note.

_A;_

  1. _I’ve lied to keep my brother out of trouble_
  2. _Rabbit, deer and squirrel, snake can be nice, you even ate it before._
  3. _I cleaned them up before, but after a trip on foot for hunting or fishing, hiking, I love drinking ice cold milk while taking a shower._



Rick had hummed at the number one answer, then he’d tossed his eyes over at the tray and wondered when he’d tasted the snake because honestly, he hadn’t been able to tell and then he was glad he hadn’t been drinking the water he had because he was sure he hadn’t been able to keep it in his mouth at the shower comment, laughing too hard with the only comfort being that Daryl couldn’t hear him nor his aching stomach of joy. When he finally contained himself he continued to read on the backside for questions, expecting another round of questions but the paper was lacking their usual pattern.

_I’m out of food on my tray, I think yours is too. I was surprised to get the blueberries last, they’re my favorite and I can’t resist eating them straight from the bushes when I’m outside, I was really happy about that. Now we’re done fishing, you can remove the vest and dump it next to the wall, then I want you to grab the line and close your eyes, give me a bite when you’re ready._

Rick stared at the note for a while, baffled that it hinted about there being more to the date than the fishing game and not just wrapping it up with drinks and talks like the usual dates. He leaned forward in a last split second of thought, taking another of their notes and scribbled on it, taking a moment to breathe before he inked his words and folded it, he’d decided. As instructed by the note, he removed the vest after putting the piece of paper into his pocket, he’d planned to send it over the sheet but if they weren’t doing more baskets he’d have to improvise. The rod ended up leaning against the wall, next to the abandoned heap of the vest as he closed his eyes and he felt for the line, careful not to pull on it. He hadn’t been joking around when he said he may have become a planner when Rick had asked if they could do it for real, rarely you needed to close your eyes and wait for something if it was having a couple of beers or talking another walk, no it was something different and he couldn’t wait.

His fingers tugged gently on the line, darkness swallowing him into sound of nature that was still playing in his ears. He could feel wind brushing over his face, moving around him, aware of the vibrations through the wood he was sitting on even through the blankets. There were a couple of steps, stopping just before him and he felt the careful touch close to his ears, the sounds of nature being replaced by slow music, guitars, violins, easy drums and low vocals as Daryl removed his ear buds.

“Alright.” He said and Rick opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Daryl pulling away, his teeth leaving a gentle nervous nibble on his bottom lip out of pure habit he visibly caught himself. He had put on a suit jacket in pure black. The sheet was gone along with the pole that had held it up. Around the terrace the lights had flicked on in the lowered evening light, warming the wood in light glows close to the origins. Daryl put the ear buds down to the side with the player and Rick watched him hold his hand out.

“Thought we could, ye kno’, dance?” He asked. Rick didn’t think, he just felt his legs moving him up and his hand sliding onto Daryl’s, resting against the rough skin that couldn’t feel smoother to Rick. He felt shy all of a sudden, it could be the smile he felt on his lips or first gentle tug to walk him over to the center of the back porch. Daryl’s body was warm when he tucked himself closer to Rick, shifting their hold and Rick swore he could hear Daryl’s heartbeat while the man waited for him to lead them into the dance.

He took them for a relaxing sway, unconsciously inching himself closer to Daryl before he took the first step, Daryl following the feel of Rick’s body, falling into his tempo to the music with the most beautiful color to his cheek in the soft evening light slowly dimming for the last hours.

“Didn’t know you knew Bill Callahan.” Rick said in a soft hum, drawn into the music, the way Daryl responded as he swayed them like the man was born to move with him, how perfectly heavy his hand felt on his shoulder while Rick’s rested just above Daryl’s hip.

“I didn’t, had t’find out.” He said while he looked as embarrassed as Rick had ever seen him in two dates, not even the cocktail dress could measure up.

“Mhm, how did you manage that?” He asked and he leaned his head forward, letting it rest against the side of Daryl’s face while he told himself it was to spare Daryl from Rick’s eyes seeing every change he probably wanted to hide, when really, Rick wanted to see each and every one of them.

“M’ boss ‘n a coworker, worked m’ass off s’ I could dance with ye, realized I needed some music.” He confessed and maybe Rick shouldn’t have asked, the sound of his voice rasped so close to his ear it made him close his eyes all over again for a moment, he only opened them halfway after that.

“Yer not gonna hunt me down I hope, ‘t kinda left t’ table, he’s got weird lyrics tho’.” Rick laughed at that and took them for a slow spin.

“He does and no, I think you’re safe, I’m glad you remembered, I’m loving this..” He said, falling silent for few sways before he decided to ask.

“Are you alright with this though, being this close?” Rick had expected some muscles to tense up and they did, he hadn’t expected Daryl nestling his head deeper to Rick. He could feel the little rasp of a beard again the top side of his throat and his jaw, how it pleasantly made him shiver in the move and then how Daryl willed himself to relax again.

“Have t’learn some day.” He quietly said.

“Can I ask if it’s when it’s sudden or in general?” It took a while for him to start worrying if he had asked too much, but it had felt okay, between them it had felt like he could and so, he tried to not let it get the best of him, deciding to wait instead while he kept them slowly moving to the music.

“Mhm, sudden ‘r when they get t’close, guess both.” He replied easing into the step again.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” Rick hummed, dazing himself into the music and the flow of moving together, pausing only when the song changed before they started moving again, Rick even felt the shift when Daryl started leading him and he pleasantly adjusted. It wasn’t a complicated dance, but it was still graceful to him, easy but moving.

“Think I could stay and dance forever.” He mumbled through the moves.

“Mhm, gotta get ye home tho’.” Daryl didn’t stop dancing with him despite that.

“Maybe another beer?” Rick suggested, honestly he didn’t feel like going home yet.

“Fer ye then, ain’t havin’ more ‘f I’mma drive ye back.” Daryl continued, slowly turning them, breathing closely to Rick, honestly sending shivers down his spine listening to the ease of that sound.

“Oh, responsible?” Rick smiled, for all the breaking speed limits, no wearing helmets and claims of drunken assholery and fights, Daryl had just said he didn’t want to drive if he had more.

“Mhm, used t’do ‘t all t’time until I broke both m’legs, ain’t ever dependin’ ‘n Merle t’ help m’out like that again, shitter can’t cook ‘t all.” Daryl explained and Rick chuckled at that before his laugh faded and he had his hand closer and softly against the man’s neck before he knew it, leaning his neck back to look him in the eyes while they never stopped moving.

“What if we have that beer anyway?” He asked, shit, had he really just? Fuck his heart was hammering and it was mismatching the tempo of the music, yet they swayed, Daryl’s eyes glowing holding on to Rick’s.

“I’m sure, doesn’t mean we have to rush right? Unless your brother is coming home later and you don’t want that of course.” Rick voiced before Daryl could ask him, he just had a feeling that he was worrying about it and Rick watched as his features softened from words alone.

“Tossed ‘is ugly mug out fer evenin’ t’ have this date, he ain’t comin’ back tonight.” Daryl explained, there, teeth biting at his lips again and Rick thought, fuck it, he gently circled his fingers further back on the neck, slowed their dance almost to a still, then he leaned in, eyes half closing, felt the moment Daryl held his breath, then everything sliding into place when he placed his lips on Daryl’s, just like it had one week ago when Daryl had dropped him off at his apartment. It was slow, savoring, mind numbing and it took Rick’s world away.

“Meant t’say, ye looked real nice tonight.” Daryl breathed against Rick’s lips, shading red with Rick doing the same, felt Daryl’s finger tug at one of the loops on his jeans. It was enough to know what he’d meant and Rick laughed heartedly.

“Ain’t the only one.” He said before he greedily claimed those lips again. Olympic fucking flame alright.

**Author's Note:**

> So I had this lying around for a while but I never decided if I would make a follow up but today I wanted to. I learned I'm obsessed with them dancing for some reason. I have a few ideas on more chapters for this, so I am leaving it open but I am not expecting to update often at all, it's definitely not something I'm going to write on for most of my time but maybe, at some point, there'll be more added to this.


End file.
